


Art

by bleachedpink



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, M/M, ddspidey, spiderdevil, spideydevil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleachedpink/pseuds/bleachedpink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt drags Peter off on an impromptu visit to a museum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art

Sometimes Peter liked surprises, and sometimes he hated them. When the girl (with blue hair, Peter said) dropped the flyer on their table inviting them to the “Grand Opening” of some new art museum, Matt asked Peter what it said, and then pulled his jacket on and abruptly stood up. “Come on, let’s go!” He said, pulling forty dollars out of his wallet and leaving it on the table for their lunch.

  
    “I. Wha— okay,” Peter made a vague attempt at responding to Matt, grabbing his hoodie off the back of his chair, and his camera bag off the ground. He was still trying to figure out how he felt about this surprise. Impressively, he didn’t make a crack about Matt’s “visual impairment”, or even question it at all, until they were inside the museum.  
    It was a shabby little thing, really. A renovated old house, with beat up hardwood floors, and slightly faded paint on the walls. The art was new, but that was about it. Still, it was a pleasant atmosphere, like a well-loved used bookstore, or a neighborhood coffee shop. Peter saw Matt’s nose flare slightly, and knew that he was taking in the slightly musty smell of the house, sorting through all the different pigments and paints used in the art. Matt would probably be able to tell Peter exactly what kind of paint was used in every single painting, whereas Peter would be left guessing. Peter could tell the difference between watercolor and… not watercolor, but that was about it. He wasn’t into the technical aspect of art (or any aspect of it, to be honest).  
    “So… Why are we here?” Peter ventured after a few moments in the quiet lobby. “I mean, obviously I’m missing something here. Did I miss a miracle, and now you’re only wearing sunglasses to be fashionable?”  
    “No, don’t worry,” Matt said, pulling down his frames slightly. “Still blind as ever. I just thought it would be fun. I already sent a text to triple-threat to tell him you were sick.” He grinned at his own audacity, before sauntering over to the first painting. Triple-threat was their nickname for J. Jonah Jameson.  
    Peter followed the redhead, somewhat reluctantly, trying to decide whether to be angry (he needed the money!), or just enjoy the moment. When Matt slipped an arm around his, to play up the blind man ruse, Peter laughed, and decided to forgive him. One afternoon off wouldn’t bankrupt a photographer, no matter how desperate.   
    Halfway through the first room, Peter started describing the paintings, trying to soak up the thoughtful silence that was permeating the room. Silence wasn’t uncommon between the two of them, but Peter was especially conscious of it then, since the museum was so obviously meant for him, not Matt. The descriptions had turned into bad jokes by the next painting, and by the time they were three-quarters of the way done with the room, they were almost falling over each other.   
    “I… think we’d better go,” Peter gasped out, after seeing the dirty looks they were getting from the woman who’d sold them their tickets.  
    They sat on the wooden steps leading up to the museum and laughed, until Matt asked, “So, too much culture? Still feeling sick?”  
    “Sick of your bad jokes, maybe.” Peter said, a pointless smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble prompt I received on tumblr.


End file.
